Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
Adventures in Sport
Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT
Exploring North America...One Road
at a Time
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Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
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Favorite Places
Eight years of long riding have allowed me to see hundreds of wonderful scenes in North America. I've visited most of the National Parks, and hundreds of historical sites and landmarks in the USA and Canada. I've seen the most beautiful areas imaginable along side the downright quirky and odd, but all of them have been memorable. But long after this life chapter is closed, the landmarks below will continue to play in the movie theatre of my mind. I plan to tell stories about them to my grandchildren and the roommates in my nursing home. I will speak of how I once roamed this country at will, and along the way discovered the beauty of our land, and my inner self. My list contains not only the obvious, but a few of the not so, the tiny specks of land that mean something only to me. When you criss crossed this continent as much as I have, you find places like that. The list is in no particular order, and the order of appearance is not meant as a ranking, it was just the order I thought of them. This is nothing more then my list, the places I'm drawn to time after time, for reasons I can't explain. I decided to be specific with this list, these spots can be pointed to on a map. Areas or regions would be too broad and general for the scope intended. For sure such regions as the Palouse, the Blue Ridge, or Big Sur, are favorite areas, but that's another list. Each will have a short description and a few thoughts about why it is on the list, but a few will defy explanation. So check out my favorites, and if you're intrigued by one, shoot me a email and I'll be glad to tell you a story about it.
From the National Geographic Scenic Drive Guide, "Few thrills compare with driving north on U.S. 163 across the endless sagebrush and red desert sands and coming upon Monument Valley." I agree completely. In my eye, no place defines the vastness and openness of America like this place. It is a testimonial of what this land is about. I've been drawn to the Valley since I was 7 years old. The first time I saw it in a Western movie, I knew I wanted to go there. It has a timeless aurora, its seems to never change. I was lucky enough to watch the sunset one evening in this inspiring landscape, and as it painted the buttes red, I kept following it slipping down below the earth, and when it was gone, I caught myself taking a deep breath.
What can I say about Crater Lake that has not already been put down? The day I took this pic it was a nippy 29 degrees, and a steady wind blew across the water, causing ripples to dance across the surface. Off in the distance snow capped mountain peaks stood out. This place is nothing short of amazing, and its azure water mesmerizing. I could gaze out on it for hours, losing all track of time. It can also be a hostile place. In 2006 I attempted to ride to the rim but a cold, sleeting rain, and thick fog beat me back. I will always remember my visits here, and whenever someone asks for the most beautiful spot on the planet, I will offer up Crater Lake.
I have a long history with the Bixby Bridge, as anyone who has read my trip journals will know. Beyond its sheer elegance of design, it also stands for freedom, because this is the bridge the fictional character Jim Bronson rode out on his way to becoming a Long Rider. It also doesn't hurt it is located in a breathtaking area of the USA, where mountains and coastline meet amid splashing waves. Big Sur is a awesome area, and the the Bixby Bridge it most storied treasure.
The Little Big Horn is another place from childhood. I saw many movies about Custer, and over and over heard the name of "Little Big Horn." I grew up playing army and war, and was always drawn to military history, and old battlefields. Visiting the battlefield fulfilled a boyhood dream. In fact, many dreams became reality when I joined the Long Riding ranks. Heck, just becoming a Long Rider fulfilled a yearning first experienced when I was a teenager. As I walked this quiet hill on a cloudy day, I tried to imagine the awful terror these men must have experienced. Much is written about the cunning of the Indian warriors, but the bravery of the 7th should not be forgotten. Here, only a few hundred were surrounded by thousands, but yet all did their duty, even knowing the day would probably be their last.
Well not so much the Valley (although it is a nice place) but this locale located on SR 261 somewhere near the Arizona-Utah State lines, overlooking the Valley. I can't recall the exact spot, but I'll know when I see it. I stood in this place for 15 minutes, and as you can see, felt like I was on top of the world. I saw almost this same shot in a BMW advertisement for a GS 1200 not long ago, so I'm not the only one that knows about it. I had worked my way up a on again, off again dirt road for thousands of feet and this was my reward. What a great view, and I plan to return.
My guess most of y'all will know why my childhood home is on the list. I spent the first 11 years of my life in this house in Norfolk, Virginia. I have nothing but fond, loving memories of it and the neighborhood. Every person should be lucky enough to have the years I had in this house. Over the years I've visited my old neighborhood several times, and each time I've come away with a warmth and thankfulness. Things may look smaller then I remember, but that does not lessen my love for it. I stop here whenever I ride up the East Coast. It has a pull on me like a Salmon and his spawning waters.
Located on the lonely parries of U.S. 85 in South Dakota, this quiet hilltop has become one of my favorite places. You can find it about 15 miles north of Belle Fourche, a half mile off the highway. You have to walk the final distance, but the half mile trek is worth it. I found this place in 2000, on a Prelude trip. That trip was my first to California. I had a 1998 Vtec Prelude that was a dream car, (I wish I had it back) there was nothing the ST could do better, other then the car had 2 wheels too many. I thought it would scratch the itch I was having for a bike. So it brought me here because I was looking for the geo center of the North American continent, instead I found this scenic view. It is a eerily peaceful place with great views, and solitude. I stop in whenever I can. It does not seem like almost 10 years since my first discovery of this place.
It is too bad I don't have a clearer digital picture, but in 2003 all I had was the throwaway 35mm. I'm going back to the Canyon soon and bring it into the digital age. The Grand Canyon is one of the true wonders of the world. I don't think anyone can understand it in just one trip. It has the ability to call you back long after you have left. I hear it calling me all the time. What would a life be if it never saw the Grand Canyon? I can't imagine mine not having that experience. More magnificent then anything I could write here, it has to be experienced to believed.
This spot is near Lebanon, Kansas, and marks the exact center of the lower 48. There is not much here; old motel, the flag pole and marker, and a few picnic tables. But it has a distinction that no other can boast- it is the center. A few farmhouses are near, but nothing of any substance, yet it pulls me in whenever I pass through. I think about this locale often, why I don't know, I just do. As you can tell this is a 35 mm film picture, not digital.
You'll find Gettysburg on the list of almost any Southern Boy. This is a haunting, captivating place. Lincoln said this was hallowed ground, and it still echoes today all the heroics that took place here 150 years. In a cause the South had little chance of winning, brave men still fought and died. Standing on Little Roundtop, or in the line before Pickett's Charge you get a sense of what took place. More men died here in just a few hours, then all off the Iraq war. I like to ride my sport touring bikes along the paths, stopping for pics and reading the various regiment markers. Every American should visit here.
Maybe because the Blue Ridge was the the first real place I rode my ST 1100, is the reason I have a special fondness for the area. This scenic overlook is not hard to find on the Parkway, located about halfway between Cherokee and Asheville, it is the highest point in the Blue Ridge Mountains and one of the highest in the entire Appalachians at 6,000 feet plus. Riding the Blue Ridge every fall is one of my life's most enjoyable aspects. The pictures taken at this overlook by me could fill a album. I've captured the views in brilliant morning sun, and late afternoon shadows, on cloudy days and thick fog. You never know what the weather will be on the mountain when you load up and get on the Parkway heading for it. But not only does this overlook represent great views and riding, it brings back memories of great friends, and buddies. I've posed with a lot of great guys in front of the Mt. Balsam sign over the years, and when I do, I recall all those who have stood there with me. Some that no longer ride, and those I see every year, guys that come to the Blue Ridge every Fall for the same reasons I do. Even when I retire from Long Riding, I'll probably still make the annual Blue Ridge Gathering.
I guess it is a good thing one of my most favorite spots in the USA is only a 3.5 hour ride from my garage- the beach at Destin, Florida. It is not really a destination ride for me though. Most of the time Debbie and I come here in the Civic, and enjoy a few romantic days and nights. But I am subject to jettison Prattville and ride here to eat lunch at one of our favorite beachside spots. I've seen all the coastlines of our country. The Pacific and Atlantic, and the Gulf along Texas, but this stretch of sand is unmatched for just pure beach beauty. The sugar white sand is soft and fine, the water clean and warm (no medical waste) and a hot sun that can tan in just few minutes. It is a relaxing place surrounded by excellent restaurants and accommodations. I marvel at the folks in New Jersey when they say they are going to the "shore," that means ugly sand and cold water to me. I don't know why the sand is so white here and the water so blue and clear, I'm just glad it is. These beaches are one of America's best kept secrets, I hope I didn't spoil things for us locals.
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